A Reason to Believe
by Cassandra Elise
Summary: Newly arrived in London, Betty can't get over Daniel's past treatment of her, and she wonders if she'll ever know the reason for his odd behavior. Season Finale Spoilers. Due to positive feedback, I've written a second chapter from Daniel's POV.
1. A Reason to Believe

A Reason to Believe

It was two weeks and three days since Betty last spoke to Daniel, a fact that should have gone unnoticed due to her hectic new life in London. Indeed, her _days_ as an editor were spent with little thought on the subject, but at _night_, while the entire city was at rest, memories of him returned to haunt her. She kept replaying the image of Daniel, his cool blue eyes twin puddles as he signed her release form. She saw Daniel, his voice wrought with emotion, make a feeble excuse and turn away, never looking back.

He hadn't come to her farewell party. He hadn't said goodbye. And she didn't know why. True, Mrs. Meade's reason stood out in her mind, a bright neon sign flashing its message to the world, and Betty was willing to believe it over the other option: that Daniel really did hate her for not including him in her plans—for abandoning him.

But could Daniel really love her in a way that was completely foreign for them and completely . . . wonderful? She found it hard to believe that his platonic feelings for her could have evolved into something more. After all, this _was _Daniel. She had seen the type of women he had dated: tall, gorgeous, vacuous bimbettes with little interest in his intellect or his kindness or his . . . Well, needles to say, Betty wasn't any of those things. She was more like Molly, his late wife.

The realization made her bolt upright in her bed. She _was_ like Molly, but that didn't mean he was in love with her_, _Betty Suarez from the Queens. It was completely unrelated. It _had_ to be. "We're only friends," she protested to the darkened room. "He wouldn't do anything to jeopardize our friendship."

Or would he? His current actions seem to indicate as much. After all, _he hadn't said goodbye_. Everyone else had, even Wilhelmina Slater, for Pete's sake! He hadn't even had the decency to call, though she had received one odd voicemail whilst on the plane to England. The number had been unfamiliar to her, and when she played the message back all she heard was uneven breathing.

She liked to think it was from Daniel. Perhaps he had called from a strange phone in a bar to apologize but couldn't find the right words and hung up. She could see him doing that. He always got so bashful when he was apologizing, and if he had been imbibing, his communication skills would have been even worse. It was a good, sound theory, and she had no problems believing it to be true. She _had _to believe it. Otherwise she couldn't find it in herself to forgive him.

Inevitably when she remembered her last encounter with Daniel, she thought of her _familia _and what advice they would give in this situation. Papi would give her some tamales along with his paternal wisdom, and Hilda would cop a "I'm your big sister, so you better listen to me," attitude all while feeling just as worried as the rest of them. And Justin—sweet, wise beyond his years Justin—would know exactly what to say to cheer her up. After imagining such a scenario, she would feel so homesick she couldn't breathe and would have ridiculous ideas of quitting her job and moving back home to her family's supportive arms.

But Betty couldn't quit. Working for a magazine that dealt with the issues she was passionate about was her dream job, and being an editor at the age of 25 was the delicious icing on the cake. She couldn't leave London with its intriguing humanity and history. This city was the only thing sustaining her.

She loved the fast-past, paradoxical world where past and present collided in a kaleidoscope of color and excitement. Where modern skyscrapers towered over ancient Roman stonework and a faddish coffee shop overlooked the enduring, ineffable St. Paul's Cathedral. London was different. London was unique. London was _her._

She just had to stay and weather her homesickness as best as she could. London, with its emphasis on change and progress, was just the change she needed. Besides, Daniel would want her to fail and return to New York, and she wouldn't give him that satisfaction, regardless of the reason for his recent behavior.

****

The next few workdays passed quickly due to the anticipation she felt for the weekend. Christina had called and arranged a short trip to London! Whenever Betty felt an inkling of homesickness, she quelled it with thoughts of the plans she had for her and her friend.

Friday evening arrived at a snail's pace, but eventually she found herself standing outside the _Café Nero_ where they had promised to meet. Betty scanned the mass of pedestrians making their way home, searching for the familiar tawny head of her friend. She heard the Scottish brogue before she saw its feisty owner.

"BETTY!" Christina shouted. Several heads turned to stare at her, but she ignored them and bustled over to the petite Latina.

"CHRISTINA!!!!" Betty let out an excited shriek and embraced her friend. They jumped up and down, each yelling out random exultations that were lost amidst the din of London.

Christina took in the bright blue patchwork coat Betty was wearing. "Don't you look stylish! Turn around," she ordered, twirling her finger for guidance.

Grinning, Betty did as instructed. "It's a Christina McKinney original."

"My, what a talented designer," Christina joked. She did a double take of Betty's lovely face. "And new glasses, too? You are _quite_ the fashionista."

Betty dismissed the compliment with a wave of her hand. "It was a gift from my family. I happen to miss my red glasses."

The two entered the café and soon were seated with espressos at a cozy table in the corner. "So Ms. Editor, how are you enjoying life in London?" Christina asked.

Betty fingered the lid of her drink, not meeting her companion's eyes. "It's great. I love my job, and the city is so fascinating. Have you been to the National Gallery? I could spend days in there—"

"So what's wrong?" Despite the fact that they hadn't seen each other in quite a while, Christina could still read Betty like an open book.

Betty swallowed around the lump in her throat and looked up, something wet prickling her eyes and threatening to overflow. "I miss my family, and Daniel . . . he was . . . he didn't –" And then the tears came in a torrent, running down her nose and fogging up her glasses. Soon she was blubbering into her coffee as she explained the events that had transpired before she left.

As she burdened her sorrows unto Christina, she felt a huge weight lift off her shoulders. It was nice to be able to confide in someone face to face. Sure, she spoke, texted and emailed her family daily, but there was something so comforting in having an actual person there listening to everything she said and nodding at the appropriate times. Slowly the tears abated, and the group of curious bystanders she had elicited during her sob story quickly dispersed.

"The worst part is I don't even know why he's acting this way," she concluded. "I mean, everybody has their theories, but I don't know if I believe any of them." She squinted at her friend through her tear-stained glasses and rummaged through her purse for a glass cloth to wipe them down.

For a moment Christina was silent. Then she fixed Betty with an appraising look and smiled mischievously. "I knew you were quitting the fashion world, but I thought you would at least keep up with the current issues of _Mode_."

Betty scrunched up her forehead in bemusement. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the most recent letter from the editor, or should I say 'resigning editor.'"

"What?" Betty squawked. "Daniel stepped down? "

"Yeah, and he gave entire control to that she-devil Wilhelmina Slater. It's one of the biggest stories in the fashion world right now."

"But why? Why did he step down?"

Christina shrugged. "I'm not sure why, though he did allude to something about it in his letter. You should check it out, Betty." She patted her friend's hand encouragingly. "I think you'll find the answers you're looking for."

****

Betty wasn't much company the rest of the evening, and she said goodbye to Christina around ten, blaming her heavy workload but promising to be in a much better mental frame the next morning when they went for breakfast. Luck seemed to be with her, as she didn't have to wait long for the late train at the underground. She found herself back at her flat in fifteen minutes, and five minutes later she was searching the internet for news about Daniel's departure from _Mode_.

Most of the reports were infuriatingly unhelpful. Apparently Daniel had been vague at his press conference, citing a lack of "drive and passion" as his criteria for leaving. And then she hit the goldmine. Several articles referred to his last letter as Editor in Chief, even going so far as to declare that Daniel Meade had given up his family's crown jewel for a woman.

A woman? Betty's heart jumped to her throat as she sped over to the official _Mode_ website in search of this important epistle. And there it was, under a snapshot of old back issues and the bold inscription of MODE.

The first two paragraphs held little significance to the matter at hand, just some rambling about the ever-changing nature of the fashion world. The third paragraph featured the one allusion to his resignation, so subtle that she almost missed it:

_It's one for which I admit I am not a natural fit, one for which Wilhelmina is._

"Oh," she exhaled. She knew that fashion had at one time been his passion. Papi had even encouraged him to hone in on his skills rather than sleep with the entire city. Was it possible that sometime during the last two years he had grown ambivalent to the fashion world? And if he had, what was the reason?

She continued reading, hoping to get the answers she so desperately desired. The very next paragraph revealed something very important:

_I ask you, dear reader, to think back to a time when you experienced a major shift in your life. Was it an external change, something that happened outside of you, and forced a change of attitude to help you adapt to the future? Perhaps you saw a friend demonstrate a prowess that cast her in a new light. Heck, maybe it was as simple as your friend getting a makeover. Or perhaps that friend was undergoing her own life change, one in which she would no longer be present in your life, compelling you to make your own change to keep her in it, even if it were in a new context._

Even though he was hurt and angry over her decision, he was still thinking about her. He was thinking about her so much that he mentioned her in his last letter. A note that could have been filled with memories about his time at Mode was instead devoted to her.

She felt her throat close up, and her eyes again grew moist. She was utterly relieved to discover that he didn't hate her. As much as she was annoyed with him for his recent actions, she couldn't stand the thought of losing him as a friend. But if his behavior hadn't been a product of hate that meant something else was the cause—perhaps something similar to what Claire had suggested. Betty shook her head to rid herself of the notion. Regardless of the fact that she couldn't think of any other plausible reason, it was still so hard to fathom that Daniel could have romantic feelings for _her_.

Betty glanced down at the clock in the corner and realized it was past twelve. She was about to shut her computer down when she noticed the proceeding paragraph. The content made her jaw drop:

_Just as important: Maybe the change was an internal one. Maybe you realized you were no longer interested in maintaining your status quo. Perhaps you wanted to try new challenges not only in your professional life, but also in your personal one. Or maybe one day something just changed inside you in the way you saw that good friend, causing you to want her to be more than, well, just a friend._

"Oh," she said again, softly as a sigh. This time the tears fell silently, no sobs, no sniffles. And as she cried, she laughed. Claire had been right. Suddenly, all the pieces fell into place. The irrational behavior, his tears, the burning of her contract and his absence at her party were all a result of his feelings for her. His _romantic _feelings.

Betty went over each scene in her head, this time concentrating on any subtle clues she might have missed. His declaration that he couldn't live without her came to mind, as did the fond looks he gave her. Those devastating looks that had made lesser women to turn to putty.

Betty plopped onto her sofa, exhausted yet satisfied. The answers which had been evading her were now in her grasp. With this new knowledge, Betty was assured that Daniel would come to see her and apologize. And when he came, she would forgive him. When he came, she would listen to _all _he had to say.


	2. Reason Revealed

Reason Revealed

It had been 3 days since Daniel last spoke to Betty, a fact that weighed heavily on his conscience. "I'm supposed to be at a meeting right now," was not the sort of goodbye you wanted to say to your friend. Yet that had been Daniel's final words to the woman who had grown to mean more to him than the entire world.

What was worse than his feeble excuse and quick exit was the message Betty had left him on his cell the next night: "It's my going away party, and you're not here." The pain in her voice haunted him, and he played the message over and over again purposely to punish himself for what he had done.

Daniel stared out the window of his office, wondering when she had become his reason for living, his core of existence. He knew he sounded pathetic, a codependent in need of his human security blanket, which was why he hadn't revealed his feelings to anyone. Well, besides his mother, who had discovered the truth without any help from him. He didn't want the world to mock him for what they considered to be weakness, to point and laugh at the once womanizing, self-absorbed Daniel Meade who now couldn't stop thinking about the one perfect woman who got away.

Shaking his head to rid it of his thoughts, he sat down at his desk and began looking over the book for the 100th anniversary issue. It was supposed to go to print that afternoon, and he and Wilhelmina both needed to approve it still. Daniel flipped carelessly through the pages, not really seeing anything. His hands stopped on his own biography, his eyes taking in the handsome, confident man in the photo, so strange and foreign to him now, and then coming to rest on the profile—the last article Betty had written for the magazine.

She hadn't even handed it into him but had dropped it off with Marc on her last day in the office. Her last day. The day after her farewell party. The day after he decided to let her go. She hadn't known he was there watching her dance joyfully with her friends, keenly unaware of his agony. That's when the realization had hit him. She was _happy _to be starting a new life in London, and all he wanted was for her to be happy. So he _had_ to let her go, spread her wings and soar like the colorful butterfly she was. It was for the best, but it still hurt like hell.

Daniel stared unblinkingly at the article in front of him. _I can't live without her, _he thought. _Why do you have to? _a different voice in his head reasoned. _I have this company to run, _he argued. _Unless . . ._ He flipped to the next blank page, an idea formulating in his head.

****

"I want to step down from _Mode_," he told his mother.

Claire looked up from the paperwork on her desk. "Okaa-aay," she began slowly, "is this really what you want?" She studied her son's careworn face, and her heart ached for him. She understood so well what he was feeling: loving someone wholeheartedly but not knowing if they loved you back. For years she had felt that way with Bradford, and now Daniel felt it for Betty.

"I don't want to work for this stupid fashion magazine anymore." Daniel's boyish countenance was aged with worry lines. "I don't want to be here. I want . . . " He hesitated, his blue eyes searching his mother's for encouragement. "I want Betty."

Claire Meade beamed. "Then you should go and get her."

****

Claire told him that winning Betty's affections would not be easy, but that they'd be worth the toil and tribulation. Daniel believed her. Betty was used to dating the "nice" guy and the "normal" guy, and he would have to prove that he was one of them. More importantly, he had to prove that he wasn't just her best friend but a legitimate suitor. Whatever Betty's feelings for him might be, he wanted her to know every single day how beautiful and amazing he thought she was.

The first step of his courtship plan was to apologize for his recent behavior. He called Betty's cell but only got her voicemail. Taken aback, Daniel wrestled with leaving an apology or waiting to call back later when she was available. He realized two minutes later that he was still on the phone hyperventilating, and sheepishly hung up. He decided he would apologize later, face to face with her. In London.

The next step was announcing his resignation. He told Wilhelmina first, setting the necessary legalities into motion, and then called a press conference. Compared to the news media, Willy's reaction was absolutely blasé. The media barraged him with a myriad of questions, and he could barely hear himself above the mass pandemonium.

"I love _Mode _and the amazing people behind it," he explained. "But I don't feel this is my true calling. _Mode _deserves an editor who is truly passionate about it, and that editor is Wilhelmina Slater." He stepped off the podium to let Willy have her well-deserved moment in the spotlight. As she was announcing her plans for the magazine, he quietly slipped away. He had never asked for fame.

His last letter as EIC had been written weeks ago after Hilda and Bobby's wedding, but due to the current news of his departure, he had to tweak the article slightly. On hindsight, he realized the entire letter was basically a declaration of his love for Betty—or rather to an anonymous "friend." The edited letter was tacked on in the eleventh hour, much to Wilhelmina's annoyance.

"Thank God, you had the decency to step down," she snapped. "That's the last issue that will ever be delayed thanks to your incompetence and idiocy."

Daniel swept the perplexed diva up into a hug. "I'll miss you, too."

****

With all of his work obligations taken care of, Daniel was ready to make the move to Europe. He would visit Alexis and Daniel Jr. for about a month, giving ample time for the shockwaves of his departure to subside and more significantly, giving Betty time to adjust to her new surroundings. With any luck, when he finally arrived, she would be prepared to meet him and listen to what he had to say.

During the next month the wait and distance between them would be intolerable, but soon he would bridge the gulf of anger and guilt that separated them. Soon he would be near the woman he loved. Soon he would be home.


End file.
